


As Chill as Life Will Allow

by starberby



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Anxiety Meds, Gen, Happy Ending, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-22
Packaged: 2019-04-06 15:29:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14059938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starberby/pseuds/starberby
Summary: My first ever fanfic, a drabble about Jeremy learning to cope with his anxiety post-squip. Based off of my own experience with gad and taking meds. Hope you enjoy!





	As Chill as Life Will Allow

Jeremy closes his eyes, inhales, and swallows the pill. It goes down easily, just as it went down yesterday and the day before. He had to pump himself up beforehand, of course, remind himself that he wasn’t taking a squip or anything with evil intent, that he wouldn’t be turning into a zombie or a robot like the stereotypes about medication say. The actual taking of the anti-anxiety pills, though, is harmless. Easy. Helpful. 

In the past two weeks he’s gone from hating them to being suspicious of them to . . . feeling pretty good, honestly. He’s still on a sub-therapeutic dose, but his dad and several friends (he has more than one friend—imagine that!) already say they see a difference. And it hasn’t been a squip-like transformation, either. He didn’t wake up being taught to have a new personality, to act in the right ways and disregard his instincts. He’s the one in charge, this time, which is terrifying, but somehow the pills hold back the part of him that says to, you know, *hold back*. It‘s like slowly gaining new superpowers. He can’t control his new abilities perfectly yet—he still says wrong things, still feels bad when he gets caught up in his words or receives a strange look from someone—but he can get ready for school in the morning without a breakdown about whether or not to take the bus. He can talk to people he doesn’t even know sometimes, trading small talk while passing in the halls. For him, that’s as big a deal as shooting lasers out his eyes or fire from his hands. 

Everyone else has been getting better, too, post-squip. Micheal, who is just as pumped as Jeremy is about Jeremy’s anxiety pills and therapy (“Dude! Real progress!”) Has been more sociable himself, even hanging out with other members of the “squip squad” when his player two can’t make it. He and Christine actually really hit it off—she’s got him listening to musical soundtracks in addition to all of Micheal’s usual jams. He might be joining stage crew next school year, which is awesome. 

Jeremy looks at his clock. Shit, it’s time to hit the road! He’s been daydreaming for too long, but it isn’t a huge problem. Nowadays, the chorus of “C-c-c-come on” that sounds in his head is his feeling of excitement for the day, not a cacophony of nerves that propels him forward. For once, he’s not feeling weird or super strange. It hasn’t caused the apocalypse to come crashing down for a second go, so far. He’s doing okay. 

“Good morning!” He calls as he passes his dad in the hallway, heading out the door. It’s time to start the day.


End file.
